


Alliteration

by This_Bloody_Cat



Series: 15 Drabbles (that turned out NOT to be drabbles anymore) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Dark, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Obliviation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 03:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11958912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Bloody_Cat/pseuds/This_Bloody_Cat
Summary: A dream is a dream, except when it's not.





	Alliteration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracerene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/gifts).



> Prompted [here](https://this-bloody-cat.dreamwidth.org/12469.html?thread=3253#cmt3253). 
> 
> Thanks Iwao for betaing this for me. (But, you see, unfortunately, after she betaed it, I went back and changed almost everything, so really, any mistakes you find are my own.)

Al holds the bottle like it's fragile, like a china doll that might break with the slightest touch. Dainty. Too tenuous to stand pressure. 

"We could get arrested for this," you tell him. He looks up at you, for a second. "Merlin, Al, I didn't know—I swear, if I had known you were planning to steal this, I'd have left . . ."

"I know. You told me before."

"Al," you whisper, "it's Amortentia, do you _know_ what it can do to people?"

"Yeah." Albus smiles a tiny smile. "You did also mention that, before. You're getting rather predictable."

It's odd. It's supposed to be nearly summer but you're sweating underneath your shirt. You know it's hot outside, you know that, but it's this eerie feeling you're getting from Al. You can't shake it. This moment, here, fighting with Al over a stolen potion feels like something you've lived before — a hundred, a thousand times before. You can't remember it though. You can't tell if it's true because it's somehow vanished from your mind, but it feels so _close_ to you. Like a situation you've been through but you don't know where, or how it'll go, because it's gone. 

"And it's all for you," Al says. His eyes are on you, again, waiting for your reaction, and what's funny here is having Al look to you for approval over something you can't approve.

"No."

"Why not?"

You shake your head. You want to scream, _It's Amortentia!_ Instead, you say, "Because I won't. I won't drink it. I don't want to. Because we're _friends_ , Al, not . . ."

You swallow. 

It sounds like a plea and you know it.

"But the thing is, Scorpius—" as the words leave Al's mouth, chills run down your arms. Seeing him like this, like you do now — empty, like a part of him you thought existed died while you weren't looking — it makes the hairs on your skin stand on end in a way you've only ever experienced that night, when your Father got drunk and talked about his service to the Dark Lord, "—I don't want you to be my friend."

"I'm asexual, Al," you say, quietly. "I can't— _couldn't_ do that. It's not about you—" though, right now, it _is_ , "—it's just, sex isn't something I find—"

He laughs.

"It's not the first time we do this, Scorpius." His hand is right bellow your jaw, curling around your neck. "But don't worry, I'll Obliviate you." His bottom finger caresses your lip, shallowly, and you think about how your life would be if you didn't have him — lonely, probably; he's the only one who can stand you. He's a Potter, but he's not _the_ Potter. Somehow he's always managed to see through that.

And then you don't think. At all. But your lips fall open when he presses the bottle to them.

"You don't know how lucky you are," you hear him say, "having someone who cares for you, as I do."

 

***

 

Al holds the bottle like it's fragile, like a china doll that might break with the slightest touch. Dainty. Too tenuous to stand pressure.

"We could get arrested for this," you tell him.

He smiles at you. "I know."

  


 


End file.
